


A Brother's Duty

by RedFox13



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dark Souls III
Genre: Angst, Cannon Typical Violence, Hurt, Non cannon - Freeform, One Shot, Other, Short Story, boss vs boss, no comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFox13/pseuds/RedFox13
Summary: A non cannon boss fight between Nameless King and Aldrich. Based off the video by Bonfire VN on Youtube.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	A Brother's Duty

Far atop the crumbling temple of Arch Dragon Peak, the Nameless King held a worn, yellowed, scroll in his hands. On it his brother's elegant flowing hand was smudged by tears, the young god pleaded for his help. Saint Aldrich and his Pontiff held him prisoner in what was once their old home. An ominous rumble of thunder suddenly sounded from the darkening sky above.

"What shall you do, My Lord?" Ornstein's voice came from behind him. Rolling the scroll up he turned to see his knight dressed in full armor and spear ready. His leonine helmet mirrored the scowl he his under his scarf. "I shall do what I must." The old war god's fist crackled with lightning as he clenched it into a tight ball. "Wait here with the StormDrake, I shall summon you if needed." The lion knight bowed gracefully as the Nameless King turned on his heels and walked away.

.............................

The deacons of Aldrich payed no mind to the storm descending on Anor Londo. They mindlessly kept to their places with their catalysts raised, withered voices numbly mumbling the profaned prayers that drove them into madness. The Nameless King landed near them, his sword spear tearing through them as he dashed by, a gust of wind rose up in his wake. With a powerful leap he went skyward to land on the platform leading to the Darkmoon Tomb.

The Silver Knights, long ago corrupted, raised their weapons to face their former Lord. One by one they fell to the furious god as he slashed his way into the tomb. His heart sank to see the abandoned tomb dark and shrouded in fog. His footsteps echoed like drum beats off the crumbling walls. This place had become a faded ghost of its former glory. "Much like mineself." He mused as he glimpsed his hollowed face in the dingy, glass window.

His wandering gaze spotted a figure resting on the floor against a column, as he knelt down he recognized the dull brass armor of the Fire Keeper. "Her passing was long ago." He said quietly to himself. Reaching out he let his hand rest on her shoulder plate. "You have my thanks. Your service to my brother shall not be forgotten." With a brief prayer he rose and departed the Tomb.

Up the spiral stairs he yanked on the rotating mechanism to raise the platform. Stepping off he stopped to look up at the darkened cathedral, the whisper of the wind and solemn silence greeted him. The cold chill settling over him was a subtle reminder that the might of the gods was long gone. The light of Gwyn was now a fragile remnant, struggling to keep a dying flame alight. A proud, brilliant, flame was now naught but ash and cinders.

A pair of patrolling silver knights descended the steps, the Nameless King charged forward. With a strong swing he sent them flying over the edge and into the freezing wasteland below. At the top of the stairs another silver knight appeared from his right. Before he could raise his weapon to strike the Nameless King lifted him off the ground by his helmet. Rotted blood spurted from the visor as he crushed the knight's skull with his fist. The corpse went limp and fell into a heap as he let go, his eyes fixed on the massive doors. He had to find another way in.

.........................

As the Nameless King entered the sanctuary he realized he was far too late. He stood frozen as he gazed upon the lifeless form of Gwyndolin. His silky, white, hair had turned stringy and brittle. His bony fingers tightly grasped his long staff, the spectral blade of Nito protruded from the end with a deep violet hue. His thin arms were covered in gray sores, no doubt from his illness and from the foul muck covering the cathedral. His dead eyes stared through him from under his malformed golden mask, his beautifully detailed purple gown trailed downward to be met with a grotesque tail that resembled the filth he was standing in.

The blood in his veins boiled as he fell into a dark rage. The fury of a storm came up around him as he leapt up and charged forward. His sword spear connected with Aldrich, the force of the blow caused an anguished cry to fall from Gwyndolin's cold lips. Furious the Nameless King swung again, Aldrich slammed his staff on the ground and vanished into a vortex of shadows.

Turning around the Nameless King saw Aldrich come up from the ground behind him. Using his brother's corpse he raised his golden bow skyward with a moonlight arrow knocked. A hail of glimmering violet arrows rained down, the sharp tips pierced his arms and shoulders. But he took the brunt of the attack to lash out again, his weapon tearing through Aldrich's rotted flesh.

He missed again as Aldrich vanished under the floor once more. He paced the sanctuary in agitation, "Come face me coward!!" He said through clenched teeth. Aldrich resurfaced only to bet met with a furious barrage of steel and lightning, unable to counter he retreated underground again. Aldrich reappeared and struck him twice with the spectral blade on his staff before vanishing.

"I grow tired of your games! Fight me!!" He yelled. As Aldrich resurfaced the heat and light of the first flame engulfed him. He had called upon the power of his cinders to strengthen him. The blow that struck him next knocked the wind from him and brought a sad smile to his face. Now Aldrich was taking him seriously, lunging at him he let loose another barrage of strikes. Several tiny violet orbs appeared in the air before taking aim at the Nameless King.

The magic pierced through the armor on his chest, the wounds turned icy cold as it dug into his flesh. With a bellowing war cry the Nameless King summoned a lightning stake and drove it deep into Aldrich. The deformed tail of the man eater twitched and writhed as Gwyndolin shrieked in agony. His cries hurt him more than the wounds from this battle ever would. Steeling himself he took his weapon in both hands and charged forward. Aldrich collapses with a sickening splat onto the floor, Gwyndolin went limp and fell face forward.

The Nameless King had thought it was over, just as he was about to turn to walk away he saw Gwyndolin's fingers twitch. Slowly he raised himself onto his elbow, one trembling hand reached out to him. His breaths came in labored gasps, blood trickled from his pale lips as he struggled to talk.

"......Brother?.... You came?" Gwyndolin panted. The Nameless King felt his blood turn to ice in his veins, Gwyndolin was still alive! Running to him he knelt and took him into his arms, not caring about the muck and blood staining him. "Gwyndolin! Forgive me, I thought you were lost to that monster." He stopped as a slender hand reached up to brush away a tear.

"I was. But no more." Gwyndolin wheezed. He began coughing up more blood, it was clear he didn't have much longer. "Brother...thank thee...for ending thy suffering. Thank thee...for freeing me." For the first time in ages a smile crossed the god's face, he looked up at his brother's face one last time as his vision went dark. "Long may your sun shine! Fare thee well, Farram." He whispered.

"Farewell Gwyndolin." The Nameless King whispered softly as Gwyndolin's body vanished and his arms closed on empty space. There he sat in silent prayer, his tears flowing freely. When he finally found the strength to stand he rose and began to walk away. Pausing briefly he turned to look at the statues of his father Gwyn and sister Gwynevere. They looked as cold and unmoving as they were in real life.

"Well Father, are you satisfied? Your name is forgotten, your kingdom forsaken, your legacy lost. Your son who served you faithfully and without falter was rewarded with defilement and agony! Aren't you proud of your handiwork?!!" He shouted the last sentence, his voice booming through the silent cathedral.

With the deafening silence as his answer he turned and left Anor Londo for the last time.

..........................

Ornstein sat in silent meditation on the upper level of the temple. The StormDrake sat nearby keenly watching the surroundings. The lion knight was stirred to alertness by the soft plink of rain drops against his armor. Opening his eyes he looked up to the sky above. The sky was black as the Abyss, the rain fell softly as the wind whispered gently.

"He is mourning. Gwyndolin is gone." Ornstein said quietly as he stood. Looking over to the drake he motioned for him to follow. "Our Lord needs us. Let's go to him." Together they walked to the main gate to await their Lord's return.


End file.
